


Lame Ghosts in Love

by sui



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, who even allows me to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sui/pseuds/sui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even in death, they find each other. (And get along about as much as usual.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lame Ghosts in Love

“Excuse you.”

Automatically tuning out the voice to his right, Daiki flopped to the ground, sprawling out on the concrete.

“Um…”

He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow and turning away from the noise in his futile search for a comfortable position. In front of him, the basketball court spread out, the air above it slightly shimmering in the sun’s heat. Probably due to the time of day, that area of the park was mostly deserted.

“Excuse me?”

“Holy shit,” he swore, rolling away from the hand that landed on his shoulder. Coming to a stop a few feet away, he twisted, searching for the one who, he belatedly realized, had been speaking to him. The only one around was a boy crouched on the ground, hand still extended.

And staring right at him.

“Holy shit,” Daiki repeated. “How?”

The boy’s brow furrowed briefly before smoothing out again, apparently having grasped the reason behind Daiki’s confusion. He stood in one fluid movement and promptly sunk through the ground.

Barely two seconds later, he reappeared, directly in front of Daiki and his open mouth. “As you can see, I’m also a ghost,” he said.

Despite the proof in front of him, Daiki still felt the need to ask, “Are you sure?” Aside from the fact that his head was currently sticking out the ground, he just looked too alive to be… well, dead.

“Quite,” was the answer, as the boy drifted out of the concrete, hovering slightly in the air before lowering himself to sit cross-legged in front of him.

Daiki stretched his hand halfway across the space separating them, silently asking for permission. The boy granted the request, bringing his own hand up to hover in front of Daiki’s, their fingertips barely brushing.

Daiki solidified the contact, pushing forward until their palms were pressed directly against each other. Carefully, he slid down, tanned fingers wrapping around a slimmer wrist all too easily but he didn’t tighten his grip, instead moving on to the rest of his arm, sliding up bare skin that remained a constant, neutral temperature, despite the increasing warmth of everything else around them. The sleeve of his shirt produced a similarly unremarkable sensation, the barest whisper of cotton against Daiki’s dulled senses. He ghosted over his shoulder, two fingers coming to rest on the juncture of his neck where a pulse should have beat.

Nothing.

“Hey,” the boy whispered, a strange quaver to his voice.

“Hmm?” Daiki hummed absently, fascinated with the absence of a heartbeat as he slid his thumb over the spot.

“Before we go any further, I’d at least like to know your name.”

Daiki snapped back at the proximity of his voice to his ear; it wasn’t until he actually moved away that he realized just how close he’d been to the other boy. He also noticed that without any input from his own mind whatsoever, his hand had decided to migrate and was now cupping the back of his neck, still absentmindedly stroking the skin.

“Fuck, sorry,” he stuttered, releasing the boy’s neck and jerking backwards. Once he was able to get a good look at his face, he realized the reason behind the odd tone earlier.

If he’d had any possessions left, Daiki would have bet it all that the boy was trying his damn best to hold back laughter. “No problem,” he said, letting a few quiet chuckles escape. “So, your name?”

For a moment, Daiki considered telling him to fuck off. “Daiki,” he eventually muttered.

“Tetsuya,” he replied.

“And what do you want, Tetsuya?” Daiki doubted that two ghosts in the same small corner of a park was solely coincidental.

“Well, I was wondering whether you had any plans on haunting this place. Because I’ve kind of had it staked out for a couple months already,” Tetsuya said.

Daiki blinked. “So, what? Only one ghost to a place or something?” he asked.

Tetsuya leveled him with something he could already recognize as being a look.

What an asshole.

* * *

Not much of Daiki’s life remained with him after he’d left it; there was only one thing that he still felt strongly enough about to cause even the faintest thrills to shoot up his spine, even if he couldn’t do much more than sit and stare at an empty court.

Most of his memories surrounding basketball took place in different gyms but he did hold a few fond recollections of the outdoor court, of nights where it was just him and the sound of dribbling, no thoughts of sleep in sight, or summer days spent chasing strangers and the ball across the painted lines, everything else, even the heat, disappearing in the midst of the game.

In short, he really did have a legitimate reason behind choosing to haunt the court. That, combined with Tetsuya’s initial displeasure with his presence and it was almost like he had to remain there on principle.

For quite a while, he enjoyed making as much of a nuisance of himself as he could, hoping to convince the other boy that relocating would be better for his sanity. Unfortunately, as it was later pointed out to him, mental health wasn’t exactly a large problem for ghosts.

And so Tetsuya’s patience continued to match Daiki’s undying need to constantly be a bother as both refused to abandon the court until they gradually came to accept the fact that the combined pride between the both of them meant they were basically stuck together.

Unsurprisingly, getting along became a lot easier after that.

* * *

“How long have we known each other now?” Tetsu asked, as Daiki’s fingers continued to trace the contours of his face.

“I don’t know,” Daiki muttered, “A while?”

“Then you should know by now that I’m about as dead as you are,” Tetsu said.

“Yeah, but you don’t act like it.”

He really didn’t. Tetsu was prone to things like sighs and small huffs and other habits Daiki himself had abandoned after realizing that they were a lot harder to pull off without actual air to push out of his lungs. He insisted they take shelter somewhere when it started to rain, even as the drops passed straight through them to splatter on the concrete. He said it was because it was like being cold in a different way.

“You might be right,” Tetsu said, words taking a slight downturn. “I wonder if that’s unhealthy.”

“What did you say about mental health and ghosts again?”

In lieu of an answer, he asked, “What if I went insane and turned into some sort of vengeful spirit?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Daiki said, flicking his nose, “I’ve got you. Screaming and blood dripping from your eyes and all.”

“That’s disgusting,” Tetsu snorted.

“Then you better watch yourself,” Daiki said.

Tetsu sighed, pitching forward to rest his forehead on Daiki’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he whispered, and Daiki could almost imagine the warmth of his breath against his collarbone.

* * *

“Do you even realize how embarrassingly dense you are?”

“Huh?” Daiki glanced up into Tetsu’s exasperated expression.

Tetsu pursed his lips. “Nothing,” he said.

Daiki could see the bait there but refused to take it, instead returning his attention to the hand cradled between his. Slowly, he intertwined their fingers, focusing on the small pressure he felt there.

Perhaps irked by his avoidance, Tetsu remained silent. Eventually, he spoke again. “You said before that I don’t act very ghostlike but I could say the same for you.”

“And where’s your proof?”

“Well for one thing, you’re oddly fascinated with physical contact.”

Daiki shook his head mockingly, releasing Tetsu’s hand to raise both of his in the air. “That’s not proof,” he said. “If anything, that makes me more like a ghost.”

“How so?”

“Well,” he said, “Like this, there’s not much else I can touch, right?” His words had come out more bitter than he’d meant and, as he watched Tetsu process the answer, he moved to ruffle his hair in pure, nervous habit.

“I still don’t think it’s fair,” he said and of all the responses Daiki could have imagined, it was the least likely but the one he appreciated the most. His thoughts on being dead were not a thing that needed discussing at that moment.

“What, you want a turn?” he said, trying to distract from the heart to heart he’d set himself up for.

“Okay.”

“What?”

But Tetsu was already reaching for him and this had been a very, very bad idea but what could he say now? So he grit his teeth and bore with it as Tetsu threaded their fingers together again. Had Daiki been that intense in his examinations before? He flinched slightly at the gentle touch on his cheek next, free hand tapping nervously on the ground as Tetsu brushed a few stray hairs from his forehead, eyes fluttering shut as the boy moved over his eyelids and down the line of his nose.

When Tetsu moved to trace his lips, he’d had enough.

“Okay,” Daiki exclaimed, stretching out the sounds of the word, “You’re right. I can see how that’d get annoying. I’ll lighten up on the touching, okay?”

Tetsu, hand still outstretched in front of him, bit his lip. Daiki tried to focus on his eyes. “Fine,” he finally said.

“You don’t look happy.”

Daiki could have sworn he heard Tetsu mutter something along the lines of, “Because I’m not,” but chose to ignore it. He was not in the mood for any sort of emotions then.

* * *

For two ghosts hanging around a basketball court, nothing particularly frightening ever came of it. In fact, Daiki was very hesitant to call what they did haunting.

“And what do you want to do about it?” Tetsu asked after having this sentiment expressed to him.

Daiki opened his mouth, answer on the tip of his tongue. He remained that way for a moment before finally saying, “Nothing, I guess. I was just wondering if it was okay.”

“It’s not like there are any rules to play by when it comes to being a ghost,” Tetsu pointed out.

“Yeah. I guess I just thought it was kind of lame.”

“Well, what were you expecting? There aren’t exactly any chains to rattle here. No doors to slam.”

“Don’t be rude,” Daiki said, bumping their shoulders together. “Of course there wouldn’t be. This is a haunted basketball court.”

“Okay, so what happens on haunted basketball courts?” Tetsu turned to face him.

“Uh…” Daiki growled at the growing smirk on his face. “Shut up.”

“I’m just waiting for your answer.”

“Okay, what about injuries? Huh? Players getting hurt mysteriously on court?”

Tetsu rolled his eyes. “Sorry, but I think the most harm you could inflict on someone is a skinned knee after tying their shoelaces together.”

“You don’t know that,” Daiki grumbled. It wasn’t even as if they could touch the players in the first place. “What if they could see us?”

“The players?”

“Yeah, you know. Two kids join in the game and everything’s fun and fine until everyone steps off the court and we’re nowhere to be seen. That’d be creepy, right?”

“Playing basketball with ghosts?” Tetsu raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. What about you? What do you think a haunted court should be like?” He smirked.

Tetsu didn’t consider the question very long. “I don’t know. What if people saw heard us playing, saw us on the court from a distance and then when they walked closer we disappeared?”

“So,” Daiki grinned, “Two ghosts playing basketball.”

That got a smile in return. “You have to admit, our options are pretty limited,” Tetsu said. “It’s not like we could even get a ball anyway.”

“Yeah, and it sucks.” Daiki flopped backwards, stretching out on the ground, vision filled with the blue of the sky.

“I wonder if one of the players left a ball behind we’d be able to mess around with it,” Tetsu mused.

“Yeah. Or maybe we’d have to get a ghost ball? Is that possible?” He shot a glance at the boy next to him.

Tetsu raised an eyebrow at the question. “And how would that happen?”

Daiki hummed in thought. “Like, if a ball got thrown away, do you think it would leave behind a ghost or something?”

His only response was laughter and, nice as it sounded, Daiki reached up to punch Tetsu, managing to hit his thigh.

“It was a serious question,” he complained.

“And I’m giving it serious thought.”

“Asshole.”

That only made him laugh harder.

* * *

“Unbelievable.”

“It’s happening right in front of you.”

“Yeah, but come on. Seriously?”

“Oh, I’m sure you would have done the same if you had the chance.”

Daiki tore his eyes away from the scene in front of them to shoot Tetsu an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me?” he asked. “I’m way too classy to make out with some girl in a park.”

“That’s debatable,” Tetsu replied.

“Seriously.”

Tetsu considered him a moment before saying, “You’re right. Your friends would have stopped you anyway.”

“Damn right. I have amazing friends.” Well, more like one amazing friend, as he was starting to realize.

“At least, if I had known you when you were alive, I would’ve stopped you.”

“How do you know you didn’t?”

“Excuse me?”

Against his better judgement, Daiki repeated himself. “How do you know we didn’t know each other when we were alive? I mean, we both chose this court to haunt, right? We could’ve run into each other here,” he reasoned as they turned away from the couple rattling the fence on the opposite side of the court.

“I was a ghost before you though.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like we all become ghosts right after we die, right?”

“Mm, still. Don’t think so.”

“How do you figure that?” Daiki asked, unsure of how to handle the adamance with which Tetsu insisted they hadn’t known each other.

“If I’d known someone like you when I was alive, I’m sure I’d remember it.” The look he shot Daiki then was equal parts thrilling and terrifying, mostly because he was completely unprepared for this conversation, unready to face the thing he could feel looming in front of them.

So he deflected. He laughed. Said, “Well, I am pretty unforgettable. My looks alone should be enough to get a permanent place in your memories.”

He deliberately did not look for disappointment in Tetsu’s expression when the reply came. “I think you mean your particular brand of stupidity.”

“Watch it,” he warned mockingly, still looking the other way. “But, uh. I think you’re right. If we’d known each other, there’s no way I’d forget you either.”

He risked a glance at Tetsu but the other had already schooled his expression into one of careful neutrality. He did, however, shuffle slightly closer.

Daiki was so fucked.

* * *

As soon as he plopped himself down in front of Tetsu and got a good look at his face, it took all of Daiki’s willpower to stop himself from getting up and walking away again. As a ghost, he’d never bothered keeping track of time but it had been a week since their conversation about remembering each other and each day after had only contributed to a growing tension between them. The past two days, they had barely conversed, having given up on eye contact a day earlier.

he steeled himself, forcing air into and out of his lungs, for once. Tetsu took in the motions with silent curiosity. “Okay,” Daiki said. “Okay. From now on, we’re drunk. This is us drunk, right now. Let’s talk.”

Worry painted Tetsu’s features. “Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Daiki asked.

“Because you’ve been avoiding this for a while now and—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted. “I get it. Yeah, you’re right.” He would give Tetsu that. He had been avoiding it, had been ever since he’d first felt the lingering memory of warmth when Tetsu’s fingers traced over his skin.

Tetsu only answered, “If you say so.”

Daiki may have initiated the conversation but that was about the extent of his confidence. From that point on, he needed Tetsu’s help. And so, “Ask me a question.”

“Anything?”

“Whatever you want.”

Tetsu hummed softly, thinking. “Alright,” he said. “What’s your favorite type of weather?”

Daiki considered asking if this was something Tetsu really needed to hear but after receiving a look, decided against it. “Sunny.”

“Favorite color?”

“Don’t remember.”

“Favorite place?”

“Right here.”

“Thing you remember most clearly?”

“Basketball.”

“How do you feel about me?”

The words slipped out easily. “I like you.” Daiki marveled at the ease of saying it. “I like you,” he repeated. “I like holding your hand and laughing at the people who come here to play with you. You make me feel kind of warm and give me stupid butterflies, even though it shouldn’t be possible and I don’t care whether it’s possible or not to feel like this when we’re dead, I like you and want to stay here together and—” He was cut off by Tetsu’s hand over his mouth.

Glancing at the boy himself, Daiki felt a ridiculous burst of pride at the flustered expression he was sporting. “Please stop,” he mumbled.

Daiki smirked against his fingers and, voice muffled, hoped he said spoke clearly enough to be understood as having said, “Make me.”

At that, he huffed a laugh, said something along the lines of, “You’re so immature,” but Daiki had stopped paying attention as Tetsu drew him in obligingly, pressing their lips together, finally. And ghost or not, for the first time since he’d appeared on that basketball court, Daiki felt a little bit alive.


End file.
